Worlds Apart
by Asj Johnson
Summary: Maximillion Pegasus has just recently lost his wife, Cecelia. How will both of them cope? Can they find a way to reunite? Cecelia's and Pegasus's point of view.


Two quick notes: The title comes from a quote Pegasus says in the dubbed episode "Champion vs. Creator, Part 2". There's more about it at the end, 'kay?  
Also, whose point of view it is may be difficult to determine at times, so pay attention to my segment breaks. (by the way, Cecelia had better be the correct spelling...)

* * *

**Worlds Apart**

_'Maybe a little more yellow. Perhaps a bit of white.'_ The tip of the small brush danced on the pallet. The sweet, soft scrapping noise of bristles on pallet was musical.

_'There...'_ After transferring the dap of color to canvas with an elegant glide of the wrist, the artist took a second to study the close-to-complete work. Looking a couple of inches to the left, the giggling subject came into focus before his eyes. A smile couldn't help but come to his lips as he watched the scene.

"I'm sorry," Cecelia said as she tried to suppress her laugher. Her cheeks were turning pink, despite her make-up. "The cat keeps tickling me," she tried to explain through giggles. "Do you _really_ need to paint him?" she asked, picking up the restless gray kitten.

"You're the one who _suggested_ a painting of you and that stray," he said with a laugh. Cecelia, who was now petting the animal-shelter kitten, laughed in return. "Well, he was so cute, I had to have _some_ way to remember him before he gets adopted."

That event took place decades ago - or so it seems. I now wish I had let her adopt that kitten. The food, the litter box... we could have afforded it. The extra work would have been worth it to see her happy during those last days.

A week after she left this world - I can't bring myself to say that forlorn, merciless word most people recite - I could only stare at that painting, at that small dap of acrylic color I added to represent the beam of sunlight that once lit up a lock of her soft, golden hair.

For the first time in years, I hadn't touched a brush in seven days. It was nearing dusk and I was still slumped on the floor of my studio, my back against one of the walls. My stomach ached painfully but I wasn't hungry. I hadn't been for days. My eyes must have been blood-shot from lack of sleep, and I can imagine there having been bags under them. I knew I should have tried to move on. I knew I should have avoided the many portraits I painted of her, instead of surrounding myself with them. But I couldn't bring myself to do what I should have done.

I wasn't suicidal, but I often wondered why it couldn't have been me, instead of her.

_'Cecelia... Why did you have to go, leaving me here as an empty shell? Why did fate have to take you so soon?'_ I sighed heavily as my vision became blurry from the new tears threatening to fall.

Unbeknownst to me, another crumpled form was in the corner of the studio.

--Cecelia--

I sadly watched him from my spot on the floor. I hadn't taken my eyes off him for days. I felt as though I would lose him if I looked away even for a second. I hadn't said a word since... _it_ happened. - I wasn't keeping track of time, but I think it was close to a week earlier. It wasn't that I didn't _want_ to say something. I kept telling myself that I would say his name in the next minute. I imagined him widening his eyes in surprise, looking toward me, whispering my name in astonishment and relief. I could see him standing, running to me and hugging me, kissing me, telling me that everything would be okay. Sometimes my daydreams would involve him telling me to "wake up, darling. It's only a dream," and I would tell him how realistic the dream was. He would hold me in his arms and I would cry into his chest as he tells me "it's over now; I'm still here and always _will_ be here for you."

I imagined what would happen over and over, but something stopped me from going through with it. When I first woke up after... it happened, I saw Maximillion standing solemnly with his head down. He looked so sad and I wanted to comfort him. I reached out to touch his shoulder, but my hand went right through his body as though he wasn't there. It scared me... What if I said something and he couldn't hear me? I just couldn't take that chance...

--Later--

I followed Maximillion into the bathroom. He was running water for a bath. He needed one - dried tears stained his face and he had been wearing the same clothes for at least two days.

I suddenly had a craving to feel hot water flowing over my body. I wasn't sure how long it had been, but I knew I hadn't taken a bath for at least two weeks. Of course... I hadn't needed to use the bathroom, either, for all that time. That was part of what had convinced me that I really was dead. I still hadn't tried to communicate with Maximillion. I figured that I would wait for the right time...

Maximillion turned to leave the room as the tub filled, and, for the first time since I died, I didn't follow him. I greedily glanced over at our large, cream-colored bathtub. I walked over to it, dipping my index finger into the water to test the temperature. I immediately had a sense that something was wrong. I couldn't tell if the water was warm or not. It must have been hot, but I just couldn't tell. Also, the water didn't ripple at all from my touch. I didn't think about those things for long, though. I still had my mind set on getting in that tub. And after I had, I let myself slide under the water. I marveled at how my hair wasn't getting wet. It was another telltale sign that I was dead, no doubt. After a few seconds, I suddenly realized that I had been under water for quiet some time without coming up for air. Panic overtook me and I bolted to a sitting position. Strangely, water didn't splash out of the tub from the sudden movement. In fact, the water was eerily calm. I sighed as I leaned back against the wall of the tub. I moved my right hand back and forth through the water and watched as nothing reacted.

_'I guess this is similar to what happened when I tried to touch Maximillion... I wonder why I don't go through the floor or the sides of the bathtub.'_ I moved my hand through the water a few more times. _'Maybe I'm like the water. - It can't go through the sides of the tub, but it can go through a paper towel or a washcloth.'_ While I was pondering this, I didn't notice Maximillion re-entering the room. I jumped out of the tub just before my husband went through my body.

--Later--Maximillion--

I touched the handle of my favorite brush. It felt foreign to me, after not feeling the glazed wood for a whole month. I felt as though I was betraying someone, but I knew Cecelia would have wanted me to do this. I started to put the primary colors on my pallet. It felt wrong. It sickened me to go through the hollow ritual. I was doing something that was supposed to be joyful, but I should have been mourning.

After preparing the pallet, I glanced at the canvas - and realized that I couldn't think of anything to paint. I've always painted what I felt, and I felt nothing. I was empty inside.

--Cecelia--

Watching him stare blankly at the canvas, I finally got up enough nerve to say something. "You could paint _me_..."

My heart sped up as I watched for his reaction - or it would have, if I still had one. The same nonexistent heart sank as I realized that he couldn't hear me. He sat his pallet down, but, instead of running to me, he ran past me, out the door.

--Later--

It was difficult being so close to the man I love, yet not being able to communicate with him or touch him. It was as though someone had placed a glass wall between the two of us in order to torment our souls. I actually began to talk to him fairly regularly, nonetheless. It didn't matter that I never got a response.

Maximillion still hadn't been able to paint anything. I wished he could. He had always loved to paint. He did it so wonderfully; it must have been his calling. It wasn't just painting, though. My husband began to distance himself from everything he once loved - except for me. I had begged him not to do this to himself, numerous times, but he never heard me. I may have been doing the same thing, but _I_ was no longer living... Maximillion deserved to live his own life, even though I did appreciate him thinking about me night and day. We both began to grow more depressed by the day after the initial shock of it all. Every so often, I yearned to feel my husband's soft skin beneath my fingers. Other times, I desperately desired for him to acknowledge my presence. I wanted his deep brown eyes to lock with my own. I wanted him to say my name and actually be talking _to_ me instead of about me.

I knew he missed me desperately, just as I missed him. I would watch him sleep at night - when he _could_ sleep - and I would hear him whisper my name in his restless slumber. He also had been making frequent library visits. He would search for books about death and spend most of the day reading them. He has read books about almost every culture's beliefs about death: Native American, Irish, African, Indian, Dutch, and several others.

"This is the day... I feel it..." Maximillion whispered as he walked up the steps to the library.

"Promise me, Maximillion, that today you will find something to make you happy..." I said to him. "Even though I love you more than anything else in this world... I want you to live your life and be happy..." He didn't make any indication of having heard me as he walked through the doors. He went straight to work, taking out books about German, Japanese, and Egyptian cultures. As it was getting late in the day, Maximillion started on the first Egyptian book he had taken off the shelf. I watched as his eyes began darting quickly back and forth. He must have been getting interested in the book to be reading so fast. I peaked over his shoulder to see what it said. It was something about Ancient Egypt and the pyramids. I've heard before that the pyramids were made as a resting place for the pharaohs, but there was so much more in this book that I didn't know.

We headed for Cairo, Egypt about two weeks later. He had checked out dozens of books on the ancient Egyptian beliefs of life after death during those past two weeks, and felt as though he could find something special in that land.

--Maximillion--

I had packed a few articles of clothing, some paints, an easel, and a canvas. I was on a plane heading to Cairo - but that wasn't my final destination.

Egyptians believed in a life after death... A belief I more than wanted to learn. I thought that taking this trip could give me some peace. If Cecelia was still around _somewhere_, it was better than her being lost for all eternity. Maybe I could fill the void of my heart in that land and finally find something to paint.

As I glanced out the window of the plane, I let out a half-hearted laugh. _'I'm finally traveling around the world... This has been one of my dreams. But I never imagined it would be under these circumstances.'_

After getting off the plane, I traveled north, toward the Valley of the Kings. It was there that I wanted to go. It was a place of death. Ancient Pharaohs' tombs were there, and the dry, lifeless desert resembled the way I have felt for months. I set up my easel and canvas, ready to paint the desert sand - but I still could not paint. Instead, I packed and carried my supplies under my arm and absently wandered through the valley. It was very hot and sweat seemed to pour from my face, but I didn't care. Soon, I came to a village. I had no idea that there was a village anywhere near the Valley of the Kings.

--Cecelia--

"Please, Maximillion, ask someone for a room for the night! You'll die of dehydration if you keep wandering through this desolate country!" I pleaded. Of course, he still couldn't hear me.

"Stop! Thief!"

"...Huh?" I wondered, turning around just in time to see a man before he ran right through me. He almost knocked Maximillion down in his haste. Several men were chasing after him and he tripped shortly after passing us. He begged for forgiveness and told the group that they could have back what he had stolen. It was a gold ring of some sort. - Like nothing I had ever seen.

The men who had been chasing him didn't seem to want to let him off very easily. Maximillion offered them money for the ring - everything cent he had left.

"Maximillion, _no_! You need that money to get back home!" I cried. I stopped my pleading as the men parted to let a boy through. As I looked at him, something about him gave me goose bumps - the first time I've felt anything temperature-wise since I died. Like most people in the village, he wore a turban on his head, but, unlike the others, he wore a golden ankh around his neck. He said that we were in Kul-Elna, the grave robber village. He told us that there were a lot of thieves here. They were going to punish this one for the act of stealing - it had nothing to do with the price of the ring. He said the ring was an important artifact and no amount of money would be able to pay for it, anyhow. Then... I could have sworn he looked right at me before telling Maximillion that he shouldn't be in this village.

"H-He's probably right, darling..." I said. Something about that boy scared me.

Again, it looked as though the boy looked at me, before turning to leave. "This is not the place where the sadness of losing a loved one is healed. - The search to heal the pains of a broken heart might lead to only greater heartache."

"Can you see me?!" I asked, wondering how else he knew so much. But the boy didn't seem to hear. I stared after him for a few seconds, and then something caught my eye. I looked to see Maximillion, who seemed to be following him down an alley. I tagged along.

After we followed them down several flights of stairs, to some area underground, I witnessed the boy placing the ring around the thief's neck. I gasped at the horrendous results. Suddenly, a man came from behind us and grabbed my husband. The boy picked up a round object, which he called the Millennium Eye. He told us that if it accepted Maximillion, it would grant him a wish. Maximillion asked, "I will be able to see my wife once again?" The boy nodded - then he shoved the gold object into my husband's eye. I began shrinking in horror, as Maximillion did out of pain. Now, after seeing the events from the past few months flash before my eyes, I'm screaming at the top of my lungs at the sight before me.

"Woman, don't you understand that if the Millennium Eye accepts him, he will be able to see you? Even if the item _doesn't_ accept him, he will be able to join you in the afterlife!"

"You're a horrible young man!" I yell at him.

The boy looks away from me. "Your husband has past the test of the Millennium Eye..." he tells me, seeming surprised. I follow his gaze, noticing Maximillion, who has stopped screaming. "You have not descended into darkness... You are the chosen one. Now your wish will be fulfilled..." the boy tells him.

As I rush over to Maximillion, he seems to be able to see me. _'Can he really see me? Can we really be together once again?'_ I wonder. He gasps and then says my name. "Maximillion! I've missed you so much!" I tell him.

"Cecelia... My love... We're reunited at last..."

This is the happiest moment I've had since I died, and I know it's also the happiest I've seen Maximillion. Finally, he can see me. Finally, we can talk to each other! Finally, I can stare into his eyes and know he's looking at me. I outstretch my arms, and Maximillion does the same, ready for a warm embrace. Oh, how many times I have imagined being able to touch my husband again, to be able to feel his soft lips on my own, be able to run my fingers through his hair...

As I reach him, something goes horribly wrong. I go straight though Maximillion's body and land on the ground behind him. _'What happened...? Why can't we touch?'_ As I pick myself up, I notice a tear streaming down my husband's cheek.

"Seeing is not the same as touching, holding, _feeling_..." The boy tells us with a smirk. I give him a dirty look before turning from him.

I run back to my husband's side, but Maximillion can no longer see me.

* * *

--The End--

Like I said at the top, the title is from something Pegasus said: "But even though your cards are so very close, your souls have never been further a part. At least when I had Mokuba locked up, you were both still living within the same dimension! (laughs) But now you're worlds apart."

Well, I did this for ComputerFreak's fanfiction contest. I hope it was good... I tried making it more personal by using first person. It seemed to go downhill at the end... I guess I should have taken a little more time to finish it.


End file.
